


Cleitus

by Kizzykat



Category: Alexander (2004)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 16:02:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12987528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizzykat/pseuds/Kizzykat
Summary: Cleitus comforts Hephaestion on Alexander's wedding nightA repost of an old 2006 story from fanfiction.net (don't know why!)





	Cleitus

** Cleitus by Kizzykat  **

Cleitus leant back in his bath with the svelte body of a beautiful young man against his chest: a beautiful, weeping and very distressed young man.  Cleitus swallowed a mouthful of wine and set his goblet down, then wrapped his arms around the young man’s chest.

“Hush, enough of this,” he said, his cheek against the young man’s hair.  “You’ll make yourself ill.”  He let his hands wander sensually over the young man’s firm chest, caressing a nipple with his fingertips.

“Don’t,” Hephaestion said, and climbed out of the bath.

“What harm is there in a little comfort?” Cleitus asked as the dripping young man pulled a sheet around his naked body.

Cleitus raised his own powerfully muscled body from the bath and wrapped a sheet around his waist as Hephaestion, the sheet clutched around his shoulders, turned to face him with sparkling, tear-laden blue eyes.

“I, I was upset.  You were very kind, “ Hephaestion stammered.

Cleitus put out a hand and rubbed the outside of Hephaestion’s arm in a show of compassion.  He watched as Hephaestion’s tears spilt over his cheekbones and he drew him into an embrace, wrapping his big arms around the slender young man, feeling Hephaestion’s scalding tears against his naked chest.

He had no idea how he had ended up with the King’s beloved Hephaestion in his rooms on Alexander’s wedding night.  He certainly hadn’t planned it.  He had noticed Hephaestion at the wedding feast, alone and looking uncomfortable and he had taken a certain vicious pleasure in seeing the favourite’s nose put out of joint.  He had forgotten about him then as he had enjoyed himself at the feast, only noticing Hephaestion again when Alexander had retired to the bridal chamber.  Hephaestion had looked so woebegone that Cleitus had momentarily felt sorry for him, then he’d laughed to himself, thinking it was about time the young man grew up.  He’d wondered if Hephaestion would take comfort in someone else’s arms tonight, thinking it would teach Alexander a lesson about ownership, but he’d little dreamt that Hephaestion would end up in his arms.

Hephaestion had disappeared shortly after Alexander had left and Cleitus had thought no more about him until later when he had literally bumped into him in a dim corridor on his way to bed.  He had been about to bawl out the clumsy oaf for not looking where he was going when he saw who it was and the distraught state he was in.  Hephaestion was weeping uncontrollably and as he looked up at Cleitus, he had looked so vulnerable that Cleitus, who had drunk enough to forget caution, saw an opportunity and took it.  He’d grabbed Hephaestion by both arms and crushed his mouth in a penetrating kiss.

Cleitus had long been aware that Hephaestion was a beautiful young man, but he’d been Alexander’s exclusive royal property for so many years that Cleitus had ceased to see him as desirable.  All that was forgotten now in the pleasure of the moment and he’d remembered how he’d lusted after the youth when he’d first set eyes on him ten or fifteen years ago.

He’d been about to proposition Hephaestion as he broke the kiss to gasp for air when Hephaestion had simply gone limp in his grasp.  He hadn’t completely fainted and Cleitus was able to get his arm over his shoulder and drag Hephaestion into his nearby rooms.  He had deposited him in a chair as he shouted for his servants then squatted in front of Hephaestion to get a better view of his face.  He was deathly pale and very cold, Cleitus had realised as he touched his hand to rouse him.

“Gods, Hephaestion, you’re freezing.  Have you been out on the mountains?  Is my bath ready?” he had asked his servants.  “Get him in there, it’ll warm him up.”

Cleitus had poured himself some wine, watching as the servants had undressed Hephaestion and coaxed him into the bath.  He stood and watched the naked man sitting hunched over in his bath, his long hair obscuring his face, and thoughts of lust had recurred.

“Get out, all of you,” Cleitus had said to his servants.  “I’ll see to him.”

He had set down his wine and undressed slowly, watching the young man who was so numbed by his misery that he didn’t even look up.  He had startled slightly as Cleitus stepped into the bath.  It was Cleitus’s bath after all.

“Let me wash that kohl off your face,” Cleitus had said.  He’d settled behind Hephaestion, his legs on either side of the young man, and pulled him back against his chest as he’d wet a cloth, and, gently enough for him, wiped the black streaks off Hephaestion’s cheeks.  Tears had never ceased to leak from Hephaestion’s blue eyes as Cleitus had slowly wiped the young man’s arms and chest with the wet cloth.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Cleitus had asked him.  “It’s not the end of the world.  Alexander will come back to you.”

“It won’t be the same,” Hephaestion had whispered.

True, Cleitus had thought. Especially if Alexander develops a taste for softer flesh or his wife catches his mind and heart as she had his eye.

“You could marry yourself,” he had said.

Wrong thing to say, Cleitus thought as Hephaestion had convulsed with a sob.  The wife he had left behind in Macedon had always said he was just a dolt with a big mouth.

“It’s just politics to keep the Bactrians quiet. He doesn’t love her,” Cleitus had said, knowing he was lying.  Alexander had been infatuated with the young Roxane from the moment he’d set eyes on her.

Wrapping an arm across Hephaestion’s chest, he had settled back in the bath, drawing the sobbing young man against him.  Perhaps it was best to let him cry himself out, Cleitus had thought as he’d picked up his wine.

Now, the young man was still sobbing against his chest as they stood in wet sheets and Cleitus decided he’d given him long enough.  Stooping, he scooped the smaller man up in his arms and carried Hephaestion to his bed.  Cleitus laid him on the big bed and threw aside the wet sheet.

“No,” Hephaestion protested weakly, attempting to rise.

“Quiet,” Cleitus said, spreading a hand on his chest. “I won’t hurt you.”  He shed his own wet sheet onto the floor and climbed into the bed, drawing the thick furs over them both.

He settled on his elbow beside the young man and ventured a smile.  “You need to warm up,” he said.

Hephaestion’s face was such a picture of misery and loneliness that Cleitus’s hopes sank.  There was no way this young man was going to be capable of, let alone want, to have sex.  But, what the hell, it was worth giving it a try, and Cleitus leant over Hephaestion and kissed his mouth.

For a moment nothing happened and then Hephaestion responded, rapaciously so, almost startling Cleitus into breaking the contact.  Sensing this, Hephaestion flung his arms tightly around Cleitus’ neck to hold him, and in response Cleitus rubbed his free hand over the young man’s ribs and belly.  Hephaestion moved under him and Cleitus shifted to position himself between the young man’s legs.  Still kissing him fiercely, Hephaestion wrapped his long legs tightly around Cleitus’s waist and thrust himself against Cleitus’ groin.

Not quite believing his luck, Cleitus pulled his head back and grinned salaciously down into Hephaestion’s frantic, determined face.  That was quite enough for him and he reached for Hephaestion’s opening with his free hand as Hephaestion strained upwards to lock lips with him again.

As they punished each other’s mouths, Cleitus loosened Hephaestion with his fingers.  He didn’t want to break contact to fetch some oil so he spat into his hand and coated himself, all the while watching Hephaestion’s face beneath him with a fierce glee.  He almost faltered as Hephaestion stared up at him with a touch of panic in his wide blue eyes as Cleitus pressed against his opening, but Cleitus grinned, showing his teeth in a glimmer of malice and pushed into him.

Cleitus knew he was hurting him as Hephaestion’s mouth shut tightly, but Hephaestion had wanted it at this pace and he would see what a real man could do instead of a boy-king.  Hephaestion didn’t make a sound as Cleitus thrust repeatedly into him, his eyes becoming half-lidded in concentration and endurance.

Cleitus had felt Hephaestion’s erection to begin with but as his own climax subsided, he realised that Hephaestion had not come.  He put his hand between their bodies and pulled Hephaestion to hardness again.  Hephaestion was still clinging desperately to him, his head bowed towards Cleitus’s chest so that Cleitus could not see his face but nothing was happening, Hephaestion wasn’t responding.

For an instant, Cleitus felt an intense, blinding annoyance with Alexander.  He had kept Hephaestion so close to him, so dependent upon him, that the young man had no idea of how to respond to anyone else.  Cleitus pushed two fingers deep inside of Hephaestion, found his sweet spot and squeezed.  Hephaestion threw back his head and came with a great gasp.

“Alexander never did that, did he?” Cleitus asked.

“No,” Hephaestion whispered breathlessly.  His blue eyes looked dazed as his limbs loosened their grasp on Cleitus.

Cleitus chuckled and rolled aside from him.  He sat, reached for the discarded sheet and wiped himself off then brought it to wipe Hephaestion’s belly.  As the wet cloth touched him, Hephaestion seemed to wake from his daze and for an instant he stared at Cleitus with big, frightened eyes.

Then he said, “I have to go,” and scrambled from the bed.  As his feet touched the floor, Cleitus knew he was sore but to his credit he did not flinch.

“Where are you going?” Cleitus asked.  “Back to a cold, lonely bed?”

“I need to be there,” Hephaestion said softly, standing still for a moment.

“You don’t seriously expect him to come to your bed on his wedding night, do you?” Cleitus asked incredulously.

Hephaestion turned to face him, innocence still huge in his blue eyes.  “Alexander will kill me if he finds out.”

“You’re not his wife,” Cleitus said, sitting up straight in the bed.  “You’re not his property.  You’re a free Macedonian and you can take whoever you want to your bed.”

“You must never say anything, Cleitus,” Hephaestion said earnestly, moving closer.  “Alexander will kill you.”

Cleitus laughed.  “I’d like to see him try,” he said, and reached and caught Hephaestion’s arm.  Hephaestion was anxious rather than frightened and so Cleitus reckoned he could brave Alexander’s displeasure.  But he would simply make certain he never found out.  He drew Hephaestion closer.  “Stop worrying and just enjoy yourself.  Come, keep me company,” he said.  Sitting up on his haunches, he put an arm around Hephaestion’s waist and drew him down onto the bed.  “It’s cold,” he said softly, coaxing Hephaestion down onto the pillows and drawing the covers over them both.

“He’s only going to find out if we let him,” he said quietly, leaning on his elbow and rubbing a hand over Hephaestion’s chest.  Gods, he was just looking for a good time, not a complicated relationship.

Hephaestion looked up at him with wide, slightly wary eyes but he wasn’t trying to leave.  An idea suddenly occurred to Cleitus.  “Does Alexander ever hit you?”

“Sometimes,” Hephaestion said, lowering his eyes briefly.  When Cleitus frowned, Hephaestion gave him a strange look.  “Don’t worry,” he said.  “I hit him back.”

“Do you like it rough?”

“No,” Hephaestion said.  “Alexander does sometimes.  But if I don’t, I have to convince him otherwise.”

Way too much information, Cleitus thought.  His relationships were straightforward and take-it-or-leave-it simple.  He momentarily went off the idea of coaxing Hephaestion into having sex again, but he might get an opportunity later.

“Go to sleep,” he said.  “You’re exhausted.”  He kissed Hephaestion’s forehead as he would have done his own small son.  Instinctively, Hephaestion closed his eyes at Cleitus’ kiss, but like an over-tired child he opened them wide again.

“He’s not in love with her,” he said, looking up at Cleitus.  “It’s just lust.”

“Of course it is,” Cleitus agreed, not really interested.

“He’s only met her four times and she doesn’t speak a word of Greek.  And not much Persian.”

“Eros is a funny old thing,” Cleitus said.  “Hush.  Go to sleep.  You’ll feel better in the morning.” He kissed Hephaestion lightly on the lips and lay down beside him.

Hephaestion watched him for a moment and then obediently closed his eyes.  As Cleitus had rightly guessed, he was completely worn out.

Cleitus lay on his side, watching as the young man’s breathing sank into sleep, musing on Hephaestion’s almost feminine beauty, a beauty that had not diminished with manhood.  Always the finest and the best for Alexander.  It was just a shame that he didn’t know how to play with his toys without breaking them.

When he woke, he was alone in bed and, though disappointed, he wasn’t really surprised.  However, he had barely finished breakfast when one of Hephaestion’s servants arrived.  He said that his master had sent him with a gift for General Cleitus and would he care to come and view it.

Cleitus followed the man downstairs to the courtyard.  Here a groom held a magnificent black stallion with a gold embroidered saddlecloth and bejewelled headstall.

“With Lord Hephaestion’s sincerest thanks,” the servant said with a bow.

Cleitus stared at the stallion in mild shock.  It was a princely gift, almost kingly in its magnificence, and worth at least fifteen talents.  The extravagance surprised him.  It occurred to him that perhaps Alexander had sent it in gratitude for comforting his lover, but he didn’t think it likely that Hephaestion would have said anything.  Unless Alexander had made very rapid enquiries.  Or simply guessed.

Maybe Hephaestion had sent it just as a gift of innocent gratitude.  Or was he trying to bribe Cleitus into keeping his mouth shut?  Or making payment for services rendered?

“Take it back,” Cleitus said abruptly, turning on his heel and walking back inside.  He was not a whore or a mercenary to be paid off.

There wasn’t much to do for the remainder of the day: Alexander had ordered duties kept light in celebration of his wedding, so Cleitus took a tour of his men’s encampment to see if there was anything amiss, and then spent the whole day lazing about and thinking of Hephaestion.  He didn’t know whether it was love, lust, or just fascination, but he couldn’t get the young man out of his mind.

The King spent the morning after his wedding in his rooms, seeing no one, his new wife safely in the women’s quarters.  No one was allowed to disturb the King, but Cleitus soon found out when he spoke to Ptolemy that Hephaestion was with Alexander.  Ptolemy made no comment and Cleitus though it wise to keep his mouth shut too.

Alexander emerged from his rooms around midday and conducted a little business.  He then retired to a secluded garden, again alone with Hephaestion.  Late in the afternoon they appeared to make the daily sacrifices to the gods, with a special sacrifice to Hestia, the goddess of hearth and home.  The King then went to visit his new father-in-law for a while, followed by a brief courtesy visit to his wife.

In the evening, the King and Hephaestion entered the dining hall side by side and Cleitus had to admit that they made a magnificent sight together; young, handsome, athletic, and proud conquerors of the world.  Cleitus sat down with a sour taste in his mouth.

The King shared his couch with Hephaestion during dinner, and Hephaestion appeared as blooming as a new bride himself, and just as beautiful.  Cleitus saw no sign of the wrecked young man of last night and began to wonder how much of it he had imagined.  Alexander seemed in good spirits and his behaviour to Cleitus gave no indication that he knew anything about last night.

Despite himself, Cleitus felt a little disappointed as he watched Hephaestion and Alexander smiling at each other.  He felt a little as though one of the gods had descended, given him a priceless gift and then disappeared back up to Mount Olympus.

After eating, Alexander retired early to visit his wife, leaving a parting kiss on Hephaestion’s lips.  Cleitus waited a while and then walked slowly over to where Hephaestion was lying on his back on the dining couch, staring at the ceiling.

“Cleitus,” Hephaestion said pleasantly as Cleitus walked into his line of sight.  His face looked as calm and as beautiful as ever, but his eyes looked almost exhausted.  Perhaps Paradise had not quite been restored.

Cleitus felt a sudden stab of sadness, as though something beautiful had died.

“Thank you for the horse,” he said.  “You didn’t have to.  I don’t need it.”

“I had it stabled with your horses,” Hephaestion said.  He turned onto his side in a flurry of hair and silk, which had Cleitus’s gut tightening suddenly in lust.  “It’s my gift.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Cleitus wondering how far to incriminate himself before eavesdroppers.

“If you ever need a like favour,” he said and faltered, clearing his throat.

“Thank you,” Hephaestion said, and smiled at him with genuine gratitude.

Cleitus saw no invitation there, so he nodded at Hephaestion and walked slowly away, burying his nose in a cup of wine.  He was going to get very drunk tonight.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Historically this is rubbish. Cleitus was dead by the time Alexander married Roxane (murdered by Alexander in a drunken fight), and Alexander and Hephaestion were about 28. The real Hephaestion would never have been as weak as this, but that was the way Oliver Stone portrayed him.


End file.
